A Preternatural Experiment

Frank Frazetta 1928-2010

I’m taking a break from my usual posting schedule to give some thought to the memory of Frank Frazetta. I was shocked by his passing on Monday, and mourn the loss of a man who was, perhaps, the greatest artist of his day. While his work has been derided by those who looked down their noses at his muscled barbarians and his shapely women, even they could not argue the fact that Frazetta had enormous talent and skill. He was able to do something few artists, and especially artists depicting the fantastic, can do properly–and that was his ability to capture movement. Every single one of his paintings, ink drawings, or what have you, are incredibly dynamic. His men, his women, his monsters all seemed ready to spring to life and leap from the page. I have never seen so much vitality captured in still form. When you saw Frazetta’s work, you were seeing a story in progress; even if the hero stood triumphantly over a pile of dead bodies, the lady leaning languidly at his side, even then you felt like you’d jumped into the end of the tale, and you wanted to know what had just occurred.

Just today I sketched a couple of Frazetta’s paintings in preparation for this post. The above sketch is from a painting of Launa, a character from Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Pellucidar series. I’ve been told by art teachers that imitating the masters is one way to improve, and I can find no better inspiration than Frank Frazetta.

It’s really no wonder that publishers turned to Frazetta for covers. He painted stories, and when you saw one of his covers, you wanted to read what was inside. I came to Frazetta’s art relatively late–at 17 years old, when I first started raiding used bookstores for Robert E. Howard-related material and stumbled on the old Conan Lancers. It was an eye-opening experience for someone interested in illustration. Frazetta gave us a more muscular, more active take on the old illustrative tradition of Pyle and Wyeth. And I loved it.

His huge influence on fantasy art, and art in general, was entirely deserved. But though Frazetta had many imitators, none ever really captured the vitality which infused Frazetta’s work. He was one of a kind.

The two sketches above and the comic below are my pithy tributes to the memory of great man.